


Dead End Job

by SaskiaK



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Afterlife, Comedy, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-10-24 22:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10751229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaskiaK/pseuds/SaskiaK
Summary: If there's one person you really don't want to piss off, it's Death. A string of mishaps leads one Gerard Way to do just that and his 'kinda dead' soul has got to find a way back to his body before Death destroys it and keeps him for all eternity.





	1. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is propelled into a world he doesn't even know exists and is alarmed to discover that soon, he may not either

I put my hand to my head and groaned. What the hell just happened? I didn’t remember all that much straight away. I’d been having lunch with Mikey and Frank at this great little Italian place only five minutes walk from Mikey’s. We were on our way back and then… bam! I don’t know, but I think I’m lying on the floor. Get up, Gerard! Mentally, I checked every muscle, every bone, every joint and almost nodded to myself. Everything seemed to be in working order… except my hearing. Why couldn’t I hear anything?

Opening my eyes, I’m lying on the sidewalk and Frank is alternately leaning over me and moving away. There’s a cut over his right eye and his shirt’s all torn. What’s going on? Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on! Where’s Mikey? That’s when I turn my head and the pit of my stomach falls away. He’s lying only a few feet away. He’s face down, blood trickling from a gash on his leg and… oh no… his leg’s at an angle that… it can’t be good!

“Mikey!” I scream soundlessly.

What the fuck!

I can’t hear anything, I’m making no sounds at all. What’s happening to me?

“Frank!” Still no sound. “For fuck’s sake, please, somebody tell me what’s going on!”

As I keep looking around my area of vision, I can see that lots of people have gathered and they’re all talking and staring, but I can’t hear a damn thing. Beyond the crowd, I finally see a car. It’s obviously passed me, but it’s turned around in a skid so much it’s almost facing me. The hood has concertinaed, the windshield is hanging half over the crumpled hood and the driver is slumped over the wheel, covered in blood.

Watching Frank in intense distress, I realise now that he’s trying hard to keep us both alive, but there’s nothing I can do. It’s as if I’m trapped in my body; maybe I’m already dead?

“Not quite, but I’d appreciate it if you’d hurry up.”

I turn my head, or at least, I think I am. However I’m doing it, now I can see a tall, thin guy in a white suit standing over me, checking a gold pocket watch.

“I can hear you!”  
“Of course you can hear me!” he snapped with irritation. “Come on, I’m on a very tight schedule today and I haven’t got time for all this waiting around.”  
“Are you British?”

The man curled one corner of his lips up and eyed me suspiciously.

“You’re about to die and that’s what you focus on?”  
“I’m dying?”

The shock of the situation, and his words suddenly gave me strength and I was pushing myself to my feet, if a little shakily. As I rose I heard the panicked voice yell at me.

“No! Not yet! What are you… Stay down!”

I hear an audible, irritated, heavy sigh and it seems that, somehow, I’ve upset this strange and extremely annoying man.

“Don’t you know anything? You’re not dead yet, but you’ve left your body!”

I followed the line of his finger, pointing at the ground and there, at my feet, is me… and I don’t look too healthy.

“What happened?” I ask bleakly, yet urgently, turning back to him.  
“Look, I don’t have time for this! You have completely ruined my schedule now! Do you realise just how many forms I’m going to have to fill in for this mess?”  
“You just told me I’m dead! For some reason I don’t give a fuck about the forms! What about Mikey? What about Frank?”  
“Who?” he snapped glancing down at the book he held in his left hand.  
“My brother, my friend! Are they okay?”

Frowning he turned his attention to the book once more.

“Nothing in here about a Frank or a Mickey.”  
“Mikey! Not Mickey. Mikey Way! My brother.”  
“That’s not possible,” he shook his head dismissively.  
“What isn’t?” I was seriously confused by this point.  
“You and your brother having different surnames.”  
“We don’t!” I growled, growing increasingly more frustrated with each passing moment.  
“You’re Gerard Mathews.”  
“I’m Gerard Way!”

I watched, confused and angry, as I saw him slowly look down into the book again, before turning a curious glance at the man in the car.

“I think,” he began slowly, “I may have come for the wrong soul.”  
“You’re telling me I’m not dead?”

The man in the white suit stared at his feet, his hands, or the book anywhere but at me.

“No, erm… you are kinda dead, but it wasn’t your time,” he explained.  
“Kinda dead?” I repeated in disbelief. “So put me back!”  
“I can’t! This doesn’t often happen.” He put a hand to his head as he broke out into a nervous sweat. “You have no idea how much trouble I’m going to get into over this!”  
“You know, that’s not my biggest concern right now,” I began, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m fucking dead, you moron! I’m not supposed to be dead! You have to fix this!”  
“I can’t I told you! I’ve got too much to do and…”  
“Yeah? Well what about if I file a complaint?” I figured; he was into forms, maybe it would help. I thought I was clutching at straws but I noticed him visibly pale.  
“You’d do that?” he replied shrilly.  
“Damn right!”

Flopping down onto the sidewalk, the man held his head in his hands and his shoulders sagged.

“I’m no good at this job, it’s too stressful. I don’t know how he does it. But that’s just it, isn’t it, he doesn’t any more.”

I was torn. Paramedics had arrived and were tending to both Mikey and me. I desperately wanted to comfort Mikey, but he wouldn’t even be aware of me and besides, I didn’t want to let this guy out of my sight.

“Who doesn’t do what any more?” I asked distractedly as the paramedics finally got Mikey and his unpleasantly angled leg onto a gurney.  
“Death,” the man sighed hopelessly, “he’s disappeared. No one knows where he’s gone. I’ve been trying to fill in for him, but I’m really bad at the job. You’re the third wrong soul I’ve come for this month! I’ll be in so much trouble!”  
“Look, I’m sure…” I paused, suddenly noticing something. “Why haven’t they put me in a body bag? They’re treating me.”

The man glanced around, but the expression on his face told me that he didn’t really need to.

“You’re not completely dead. You’re in a sort of coma. You won’t wake up, you’re not in there, but your body doesn’t know.”  
“Can’t I just go back in?”  
“No, it’s not that simple.”  
“Well, make it simple!”  
“Look, to do that, I’d have to fill in a load of forms, get them approved, authorised. It takes time!”  
“How much time?” I asked, my tone sharpening as I grew more and more impatient.  
“If I rush it through, about a week, maybe ten days.”  
“How long!” I gasped. “And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

He drew his lips into a thin apologetic line and pushed the book and watch into my hands.

“I’m afraid I won’t have time to do both.”  
“You want me to… you want me to be Death!”

A panicked expression crossed his face and he held his hands out as if trying warn or silence me, or, judging by the look on his face, both.

“No! Don’t ever say that you’re Death, he would totally freak out. It’s not a job description, it’s his name!”  
“Right,” I nodded. Though I was fairly and understandably freaked out myself. Any minute I would wake up – wouldn’t I? “So what am I?”  
“You’ll be my assistant,” he said, finally appearing to calm down.  
“And you are?”  
“Acting Guardian of Souls,” he finished with a nod.

I looked down at the book and watch; this had to be a nightmare but something about the situation was making sense to me and I had noticeably calmed.

“So, these deaths, the souls? They’re just in Jersey?”

I could see he was about to say no, but something stopped him.

“Normally, no, but I can get someone to cover. You’re going to have enough to do as it is.”  
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a catch?” I asked with suspicion.  
“You have to find him,” he explained, pointing to the driver of the car. “You can’t go back to your body until I get him. And, you have to make sure they don’t switch off the life support on your own body. If they do that, you’ll have nothing to go back to.”

I was dumbstruck and could only stare in disbelief at him.

“Anyway, I have to go, so, you’re all set, I’ll keep in touch, probably tomorrow.”  
“W… wait! What do I do?”  
“It’s all explained in the book, an idiot could follow it! You’re probably going to be fine!”

I scowled deeply at what sounded very much like an insult.

“What’s your name?” I snapped.  
“Richard,” he replied with a tone that almost questioned why I had asked.  
“Don’t forget, Richard, you do your job and do it well this time, or I’m raising a very serious complaint!”

I felt unbelievably stupid saying the words. I had no idea how I would, or to whom, but he had to believe I could do it. He seemed to take it really seriously.

“Yeah, absolutely! A week, ten days at most.”

And he was gone. In a rush of noise, my hearing flooded back and I was almost bowled over by the shock of it. As I looked around, I noticed that the ambulance was about to leave. Stepping inside, I took a seat alongside Frank, who, thankfully, had only minor injuries. He couldn’t see me, but I felt better for being there. As I waited for it to move off, the book vibrated in my hands. Out of curiosity, I opened it. A swirl of grey enveloped me and I felt as though I was falling, backwards, headfirst. Lasting only a few seconds, it was enough to disorient me and make me feel nauseous. A second later, I was standing on the street in the rough end of town, at my feet was a woman with her throat slit from ear to ear. I wanted to hurl. I felt bad enough already and this…!

“So,” a deadpan voice asked. “You’re Death are you?”  
“Wha…?” Yes, I can be really articulate sometimes.  
“Where’s your scythe?”  
“I… I’m not Death, he’s… he’s on vacation. I’m the Assistant… erm, yeah, Assistant Acting Guardian of Souls.”  
“First day on the job, kid? Well, at least you’re cuter than Death, you know, he’s got the whole skeleton thing going on. Wait till I get up there and meet my friend Jenny and tell her I was escorted by a really hot guy! She’s gonna bust something!”

As I listened to her, I realised I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do. Remembering that Richard had said it was all explained in the book I opened it expectantly. Flicking through page after page, I soon realised that each page was completely blank except the first and all that held was a name.

“Sharon Jackson?”  
“Yeah, sweetie, let’s go.”

I sighed heavily. I had no idea what to do, or how I was going to explain it to her.

*

The door to the bar opened and a man in biker gear stepped inside. The bar appeared empty, yet full at the same time. If you looked carefully, you could see dozens of people at tables, at the bar or playing pool. But somehow, none of them obscured the view of any other part of the bar. At a table near the wall sat a smartly dressed man in a black suit, his long black hair pulled back and fastened at the nape of his neck. His face was handsome, with high cheekbones and near translucent skin.

“Hey, Death!” the newcomer called. “Have you heard about your new stand in?”  
“Hey! Famine!” the barman addressed the newcomer, another Rider of the Apocalypse. “Last time you were here all my snacks disappeared! You owe me a fortune!”

Famine raised his hand in a small wave and watched with a smirk as the barman jumped back away from the bar and was now standing knee deep in peanuts.

“I hope that will make amends?”

The man at the table glanced up, his fine features sharpening into a frown, unimpressed by his companion’s parlour tricks.

“Famine,” he growled, as he waved for the man to join him. “What have you heard?”  
“Yeah, some cute guy’s taken over, the dead chicks love him.”  
“What happened to Richard?”  
“I heard he screwed up again,” Famine replied with a knowing smile. “But this new guy, he’s popular, he might be a keeper.”

Death slammed his drink down onto the table and glared at Famine who was quietly making the peanuts on the table disappear one by one.

“I’m Death! No one else!”  
“Yeah, but you quit!”  
“I didn’t quit! I just went AWOL.”  
“Not exactly looking for you though, are they?” he goaded.  
“They might be, just because they haven’t found me, doesn’t mean anything.”  
“They don’t have to look now. Like I said, this guy’s a keeper.”  
“What’s his name?”  
“Gerard.”  
“Consider him dead!”

Famine leaned back in the chair and laughed loudly.

“Good one!”  
“I’m not joking,” he replied dryly.  
“Oh!” Famine leaned in hungrily. “You mean you’re going to take him?”

Death nodded as he rose to his feet, leaning menacingly over the table.

“Richard was okay, he was a joke, but no one replaces me. No one!”  
“Let’s go then.”

Following Death out of the door, Famine waved at the barman who was now shovelling peanuts into large sacks. In a fraction of a second, every last nut vanished, leaving the bar bereft of snacks once more.

“You’re barred, Famine! You hear me? You’re barred!” the barman yelled frustratedly.  
“Got any chips?” a small voice piped up near the bar.  
“No, I fucking haven’t!” the barman snapped back angrily.


	2. Gerard comes face to face with Death... and Death is not impressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard comes face to face with Death... and Death is not impressed!

As you might guess, I found some things out later. This was one of them.

“Mister Iero?”

Frank looked up from where he was seated. The waiting room had become an area for concerned fans to congregate, point and stare at Frank. He didn’t want to ignore our fans, but right now, his mind was elsewhere. Inside, he worried about his tone. If a fan spoke to him, would he sound abrupt? He was certain they would understand, but he didn’t want to leave it to chance. About to move to a, hopefully, quieter area, Frank had been cheered to be approached by a hospital security guard offering some respite from the fans. As guilty as he felt, he knew the fans would understand why.

Frank offered a weak smile to the gathered teenagers as the guard led him away to a private room where a doctor met him. The room was small, paint flaked from the walls and a few hastily installed chairs lined the wall. It looked like it hadn’t been in used as anything for years.

“Mister Iero, I’m Doctor Harman, please take a seat. I’m sorry about the room, but we thought you’d want a little more privacy. We’re having some furniture moved in later, a table, a couple of comfier chairs.”

Frank sat down, never allowing his eyes to look away from the doctor. Scanning his face for any clues that Mikey and I were well. It was likely that Frank neither noticed nor cared about the state of the room.

“How are they?” he finally asked having gleaned nothing from the doctor’s face.

The doctor nodded as he took a seat next to him.

“Mikey, he’s fine. He dislocated his knee. The pain made him pass out pretty much straight away. We’ve re-positioned the leg and given him anti-inflammatories and pain killers. He’ll be fine in a few days.”  
“Gerard?” Frank asked his voice dropping to a soft whisper.  
“He’s not been so lucky. He seems to be in a coma.”  
“Seems?” Frank frowned. “That sounds a bit vague.”

The doctor nodded again. “It’s an unusually deep coma, it’s almost as if he isn’t there. His automatic functions; breathing, digestion and so on, they’re working fine, but at a reduced rate. His brain patterns are strikingly reduced.”  
“B… but, he’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

The doctor stared back at Frank for a few moments before continuing.

“He’s hooked up to a lot of machines, so when you see him, don’t be alarmed.”  
“You didn’t answer me.”  
“No,” he paused briefly. “The truth is, I can’t. The longer he remains like this, the less chance there is. You ought to know that although he can breathe, he’s not breathing sufficiently well to keep himself alive.”  
“What… what does that mean?”  
“He’s on a life support machine, Mister Iero. Without it, he won’t survive.”

Frank lowered his head as he took in the shocking news; it was far worse than he imagined. As he gathered his thoughts, he heard the doctor’s pager sound.

“Mister Iero, your friends are here. I’ll have security bring them here. I’m very sorry, we’re doing everything we can.”  
“Can we see Mikey?” Frank asked looking up once more.  
“He’s sedated at the moment and he doesn’t know about his brother. I’ll come for you when you can see Gerard, okay?”

Frank nodded. It was a tiny, vague movement, almost imperceptible. All the while all he could think about was that he was unhurt. He had just a few cuts and couldn’t help but wonder how could this have happened? Whirling in his mind were two deceptively simple questions. How could he face Bob and Ray with this news? And how would he tell Mikey? Staring at the floor, Frank knew those questions wouldn’t wait for long.

 

*

 

It had been a busy morning and I was already exhausted. I flopped down on a bench feeling grateful that I wasn’t hungry. I hadn’t been hungry since the accident; I put it down to being dead.

“Hey, honey!” a voice piped up behind me. “When are we going to the hereafter? I’m getting tired of all this walking around; I want to get my feet up on a nice comfy cloud!”  
“Yeah, why are we all just hanging around?”  
“What are we waiting for?”  
“Enough to fill a bus by the look of it!”  
“Are we waiting for a bus?”

I dropped my head into my hands. There were now over a dozen of them. The damn book kept vibrating and I was whisked away to collect the souls – they all seemed to get dragged along with me – and I’d end up with another one. And I still had no idea what to do with them! I didn’t want to yell at them; after all, they were dead, that was bad enough to deal with! Trust me, I knew exactly how they were feeling, and more besides! But I really needed a moment of peace to think.

Richard had told me that everything I needed to know was in the book; I was coming around to the idea that he had lied to me. Whenever I looked at the book, it was completely blank, except occasionally a name would appear when I needed to collect a soul.

“Hey! Sonny! What’s happening?” a gruff voice sounded behind me.

I mean, seriously, these were really annoying people and I was beginning to suspect they had all been murdered by their equally frustrated friends.

“Nothing!” I finally yelled. “I don’t know what to do with you… any of you! You’ll get to…” I paused, I didn’t want to suggest anywhere in particular, and then get inter-dimensionally sued in the next life for promising the wrong location! “You’ll all get to where you’re going. Just not yet!”  
“He doesn’t know!”  
“Are we stuck here?”  
“Look, can’t you just shut up for a minute and let me…”  
“Can I be of any assistance?”

I was interrupted by a question from behind me. The slow, deliberate voice was polite and strangely soothing yet at the same time it was deeply menacing. Everyone around me silenced instantly and totally. It was as blissful as it was intimidating.

Turning slowly, I saw two men behind me. They couldn’t have been more different if they tried. The taller of the two men towered over me. I couldn’t honestly describe him as broad, but I’d go as far as to say athletic. He had obviously taken care of himself and seemed both strong and lithe – later, I’d find out that I was right. The crisp cotton shirt, smartly pressed jet-black suit, perfect skin and neat long hair was in complete contrast to his companion. Dressed in scuffed black and grey bike leathers, the second man was lean to the point of malnourishment. Clean, but messy hair hung in disarray about his face. His pinched features were twisted into a grin that fell short of evil, but suggest a lot more than simple mischief.

“You can see me! Did Richard send you?”

The thin man snickered as if I’d said something ridiculous, but he received a nudge in the ribs for his reaction.

“In a manner of speaking,” the tall man replied in a non-committal fashion.  
“Hey, honey!” Sharon, the first soul I collected, stepped forward, or to be exact, she elbowed her way to the front. “Who’s your friend? He’s a cutie!”

The man with the ponytail almost preened himself on hearing the words. He seemed to love the attention; it was clearly something he was used to receiving and he lapped it up with relish. But, I couldn’t help but notice that the way he reacted made it apparent that his ego really needed to hear it. My experience told me that living for praise and attention often goes one of two ways if, for any reason, the praise is withdrawn. This man didn’t strike me as Type A. Roughly speaking, Type A would become painfully shy, retiring, self-hating. No, this man would be angry, vindictive, and spiteful; most definitely a Type B. I had the strongest feeling that, sooner or later, every one of those nasty little traits would all be aimed in my direction.

“Hey! I asked you a question!” the woman shouted, a little too close for my liking.  
“As did I,” the tall man said coldly.  
“Rude, isn’t he?” the scruffy man added with a sneer.  
“I’m not rude!” I snapped. “I’m just…”

I wanted to say overwhelmed, but I couldn’t be that honest. Why? I’m a guy. I’m a dick. I’m a stupid fucker! I couldn’t say the one word that would have got me out of this mess! But of course, with the benefit of that much hindsight, I’d have been on the lookout for drunken drivers! No, instead, I said…

“I’m just doing this job because the guy who’s supposed to be doing it has better things to do!”

Are you cringing? Yeah, me too! Of course, I meant Richard. But if I’d known I was talking to Death, I’d have been a little choosier with my words.

“Really?” the man asked stifling a laugh before turning to his companion. “You dragged me out of Sergei’s bar for this?”

Now, if I’d been actually paying attention by this point, I would have noticed that the dozen or so souls that had traipsed along behind me all day had suddenly disappeared; waved on onto the life beyond by a motion so slight and imperceptible that I hadn’t even noticed.

So, here I am, kinda dead, talking with two of the Underworld’s most dangerous beings, utterly oblivious to the fact and getting myself in deep trouble.


	3. Gerard finds a friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard finally has someone on his side, but will it help?

Sometimes, when you’re in a rush, there are so many things that seem intent on slowing you down. Their actual goal is to stop you, but your own determination – I like to call it ‘blind refusal to face facts’ – will always keep you going. What sort of things do I mean?  
  
Well, say it’s school or an office job, you have a project to get finished on a tight deadline. That’s the day when everyone calls you, when your laptop refuses to work, when the bus is late.  
  
Or, you’re out and about in a busy city. You’re late, you have to get from A to B in double quick time. Suddenly, there are tourists and school parties everywhere! And they’re all going past you, and they’re holding hands.  
  
You have no chance. Simply accept it and give up before your blood pressure kills you – because it will if you let it.  
  
Nearby – and you should look around – there will be a short, stocky man in greasy leathers, with years of grime etched into every line on his weatherworn face. He’ll be leaning on a bike, and he’ll be laughing at you. He sent them. He sent all those pests to annoy you. He is Pestilence and he’s moved on since plague was the biggest killer.

  
  
*

  
  
I could see this guy, watching me from a distance. Even though I had no idea who he was, his expression told me that I was in trouble and I was more than prepared to take the warning. I knew I couldn’t really tell, it could have been coincidence, but the way he was dressed suggested that he was in some way connected to the scruffy man standing in front of me. Something deeper told me that they were all together and they had a problem with me.  
  
“So,” I could feel myself getting nervous just from the way the three of them were staring at me. “You said Richard sent you?”  
“I don’t believe we did,” the tall man replied, “I think that was your assumption.”  
  
The thin man began to circle me, running his hands across my shoulders as he passed behind me. I tried to turn; I didn’t like that he was behind me. I felt threatened and now, yes, now I’d say scared. It was only now I noticed that the souls I had collected were gone.  
  
“What happ… where…?”  
  
The man behind me pushed my head forward again and I noticed the tall man had taken a step forward.  
  
“I dealt with it.”  
“Pretty, ain’t he?” the man behind me stroked my hair and I pulled away.  
  
It felt like his hands were all over me, I’d no sooner pull away than he would be touching my arm, my hair or my face. And the oddest thing – I felt hungry.  
  
“No one’s looking for you, D. You walked out and now they got him.”  
  
The taller man scowled angrily at me, while the other kept talking. The more he talked the worse I felt, I didn’t even have the strength to pull away any more.  
  
“Look at those eyes, D!” he pulled my head back and by now, I was completely unable to stop him. “Course, they’d look a lot better if they weren’t rolled back in their sockets.”  
“Famine.”  
“You hate the job anyway, you told me. The long hours, the lack of appreciation. But then there’s the babes, eh? You happy that he’s gonna get them all now? You gotta admit, D, he’s better looking than you.”  
“Famine!”  
  
I heard the roar of his voice ringing in my ears as he grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me out of the thin man’s grip before throwing me to the ground. Behind me, I could hear scuffling and the sounds of a fight, a very one-sided fight at that. It was only then that it dawned on me what they had called each other. _Famine_ and _D_. Had I been talking to Death? And the other guy, Famine! No wonder I was hungry! I pushed myself up onto my knees; I had to get away from them. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the guy I had spotted earlier running towards me and suddenly he was lost in the crowd. From out of nowhere, there were crowds all around me, people jostled and shoved, one even trod on my hand. I could barely stand, never mind get away.  
  
“Death! Famine!” the third man yelled. “He’s trying to get away! Stop fighting, you fuckwits!”  
  
And that’s when it happened, my only chance of escape. The book, which I was still clutching, vibrated. I couldn’t open it fast enough. I still wasn’t used to the feeling of spinning and falling every time the book transported me somewhere, but I was just pleased it was taking me somewhere. Anywhere so long as it was far away.  
  
I landed heavily on my knees and sprawled forward, hitting the carpet with enough force to make me cry out in shock and what would have been pain, but was now just a shiver of cold running through me.  
  
“Aww, son, are you okay?”  
  
Pushing myself up onto my hands and knees, I looked up. Standing over me was an elderly lady wearing a nightdress and gown. Her silver hair shone in the moonlight flooding through the window and her glasses perched on the end of her nose made me think of Mikey when he was younger.  
  
“My boy, you look like Death!”  
I shook my head. “No, he’s taller and a lot more psychotic.”  
“Well then, my dear, I know I’m dead, so” she smiled, motioning me to get up, “if you’re not Death, then who are you?”  
  
She had a refreshingly irreverent attitude that I took an immediate liking to. Ignoring the nausea, I scrambled to my feet and ran my fingers through my mussed hair.  
  
“I’m Gerard,” I replied. “I’m sort of Death’s stand-in’s stand-in.”  
“Complicated!”  
“You don’t know the half of it,” I mumbled.  
“Why don’t you tell me all about it? You look like you could use a friend right about now.”  
  
I stared at her for a few moments, uncertain what to say. She had just died and she knew it, but seemed mostly concerned with my well-being. She was some lady!  
  
“Don’t you want to go to…?” I didn’t even know what to call it.  
“The comfy chair in the sky?” she offered.  
  
I laughed; I’d never heard anyone call it that before. And suddenly, I felt very much at ease, more so than I had since before the accident. I found myself telling her everything that had happened. How I wasn’t quite dead, that Richard had probably tricked me into believing I could return to my own body and that Death himself seemed to want to kill me, goaded on by the ravaged sack of bones he hung out with.  
  
“It sounds to me like you need to find this Richard character,” she replied having listened to my bizarre tale.  
“Yeah,” I nodded, “but I don’t know where to look. I don’t even know how to get you to… to the comfy chair in the sky.”  
“Well, didn’t he say it was all in the book?”  
“Well, yeah, but every time I look in it it’s empty except for a name.” I opened it again and read the name at the top of the page.“Marianne Angelotti?”  
“Call me Mari, everyone else does. Did. Does. Now, the book, are you sure it’s empty?”  
  
I nodded. I’d been over every page of that book three times already and hadn’t found a single word other than a name.  
  
“Well, did you ask it?”  
“Ask?” I was a little thrown by the question and beginning to worry that she might not be all there. “It’s a book.”  
“It holds the names of everyone about to die, each name appears at the right time and it transports you to appear at that person’s side?”  
“Yeah,” I replied, starting to worry that _I_ might not be all there.  
“It sounds a little more than a book to me, my dear. I would try asking it, if I were you.”  
  
Yep, you guessed it, I felt like an idiot for not trying it earlier and an even bigger idiot for trying it now.  
  
“Book?” I began, uncertainly. “Where can I find Richard?”  
  
My eyes widened to the point I really thought they’d drop out as I saw the writing materialise on the page. The old fashioned script giving full and detailed instructions just as Mari had suggested it might. I just couldn’t believe it.  
  
“I take it that it’s replied?” she asked in a sweet but somehow unsurprised tone.  
“Yeah, it has, there’s a sort of a rhyme.”  
“Read it out loud, dear, I’m sure it’s what you’re supposed to do.”  
  
Turning my eyes to the page once more, I read aloud.  
  
“From beyond where those have died, I call thee, Richard, by my side.”  
  
I waited, nothing happened and I turned two very disappointed eyes towards Mari. She smiled comfortingly back and nodded reassuringly.  
  
“Be patient, Gerard, it’s not always instant.”  
  
No sooner had she spoken the words than a rush of wind inside the house almost knocked me off my feet. Staggering to regain my balance, I held onto one of the large straight-backed upholstered chairs. I couldn’t help but notice that Mari didn’t move, nor did she seem remotely concerned by the wind rushing through the room, blowing ornaments from the shelves. Even her nightdress and gown stayed exactly where they were. Was this because she was actually dead and I wasn’t? Something wasn’t right, that I knew.  
  
And a second later, there he was standing in the middle of the room looking angry and frustrated. He stared directly at me and then at the lady to my left.  
  
“Damn it, Mari! Did you show him how to use the book?”  
“Of course I did! How could you leave this poor boy to cope with this job and with the Riders on his tail? He’s not even dead!”  
“The Riders! What did you do? I told you not to upset Death!”  
“Riders?” I asked. “You mean The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?”  
“Five and they call themselves The Riders now, horses aren’t that practical any more,” Richard explained to my great confusion.  
“Five?” I asked; my brow furrowed as I tried to take this in. “There are four. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse; everyone knows that.”  
“Everyone? You don’t know anything!”  
“My dear, he’s right about that, there are five of them, there always has been. And, Richard, to answer your question, he did nothing to upset Death. If you ask me, this has Famine written all over it.”  
“I met Death and Famine and I saw a third guy,” I added. “Dirty, greasy clothes. I tried to get another look when Death and Famine started to fight, but there were too many people around.”  
“Suddenly too many people?” Richard sighed heavily.  
“How did you know?”  
“Pestilence,” Richard shook his head. “Ever since plague pretty much died out across most of the world, he set out to raise everyone’s blood pressure to dangerous levels by finding ways to continually stress, frustrate and anger people.”  
“Does it work?”  
“Heart attacks are one of the worlds biggest killers,” Richard looked at me as though I was stupid, which, to be fair, I was starting to feel. “Yeah, I’d say it was working, wouldn’t you?”  
“Look, you have to find a way to get me back into my body before Death kills me!” It was a sentence that I honestly never thought I’d say.  
“My dear,” Mari began kindly. “You don’t understand, even if you’re alive, they’ll still come after you.”  
“Can I go now?” Richard asked in a weary voice.  
“Don’t answer, Gerard. Richard you’re such a coward!”  
  
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe that Richard had got me into this mess and seemed so reluctant to help me get out of it. At odds with this, I had quickly realised that Mari had pulled me away from Death and the other Riders; it seemed she was risking a lot to help me.  
  
“Richard and I will get you back to your body and we’ll help you deal with the Riders.”  
“You can count me out of that!” Richard backed up shaking his head.  
“You can’t leave, Richard, not unless Gerard dismisses you, you know that,” she smiled sweetly as she spoke.  
  
Richard flopped down into a chair, and spoke with the tone of heavy resignation of one who had been trapped into doing something.  
  
“What do you want me to do?”  
  
I stared at him. This man had my life in his hands. I was in real trouble.


	4. Famine tricks Death, but the loser is Gerard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Famine - well he's a nasty piece of work ;)

History records many mentions of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.  
  
History confidently announces them as War, Famine, Pestilence and Death.  
  
History is wrong.  
  
There is, in fact, a Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse. He does his job extraordinarily well, so well in fact that hardly anyone is aware of him and those that are don’t really care. His name is Apathy.  
  
While he works alongside the other Horsemen, Apathy is very much a loner. Not for him a casual drink at Sergei’s Bar, neither is he seen in the dark recesses of the Underworld. No one knows where Apathy goes when he isn’t working. Some say he never stops working. Some say he walks amongst us all, infecting us as he passes. But, unsurprisingly, most really don’t care. Death cares, he cares passionately, but then, he has work for him.  
  
Apathy works with The Riders often, his main duty being to increase their effectiveness. His methods are invidious and cunning; his primary aim to instil a deep lack of interest in making any significant changes that would prevent everything from spilt milk to global tragedies.  
  
Apathy is the one that stops you knocking on the door of the old lady who lives down the street that you haven’t seen for a few days – just to make sure she’s okay. He’s the one that tells you that it’s fine to waste the Earth’s resources or to look away when you see waste, hunger and crime. He’s possibly the most dangerous one of all, simply because we are completely unaware of him. He knows this and uses it to his advantage. He is exceptional in his field.  
  
You might ask why he is being introduced now. Very simple – Death will form a plan of revenge against Gerard. It will be a cruel plan and he will need Apathy to make it work.  
  
*  
  
“He got away!” Pestilence screamed, pulling Death backwards away from the now crumpled form of Famine.  
  
It didn’t take a lot to make Famine appear crumpled, but it did take a lot to make him look as bruised and bloodied as he did right now.  
  
Death glared down at his beaten opponent as he reached behind and casually batted Pestilence’s hand away from his jacket; smoothing out any creases before they formed. Creases or marks of any kind knew better than to appear in Death’s clothes. He always looked immaculate – always. Now would be no exception.  
  
Death turned; still angry, he shoved Pestilence backwards. Contrary to how he appeared, Pestilence exuded no smell. Years of decay, dirt and disease simply lay encrusted on his clothes and skin until it appeared as though it was merely another layer of the man himself. Regardless, it was not something that Death wished to be too near. From a work perspective, he recognised, of course, Pestilence’s commitment and passion for his job, even admired him for it along with his thorough treatment of every project he undertook. But they were not close.  
  
Death liked women, he made no secret of it. He was handsome and had just enough of a roguish image to attract them in droves. All the Underworld babes loved a bad-boy and Death delivered, frequently. Pestilence simply did not fit the image Death wanted to project. He hung out with Famine on occasion merely because Famine’s meagre frame and sharp, pinched features made him look even better when he stood nearby.  
  
The idea that Gerard was proving even more popular drove him to seething point. Death had the means to make Gerard, however innocent in the proceedings, regret it, and regret it he would!  
  
“I don’t care! He can’t evade me for long. You know that!” Death yelled in reply to Pestilence’s original complaint that Gerard had escaped.  
“Not if he’s alive, but he’s not, is he?” Pestilence countered.  
“He’s not dead either!” Death growled.  
“But he wants to be alive, and that’s where you have the advantage.” Pushing himself from the floor, Famine spat the blood from his mouth and laughed showing a row of blood stained teeth.  
“Does he now?” Death turned suspicious eyes towards Famine.  
“Yeah, his body’s on life support at the hospital.”  
“And if he wants to be alive, why, exactly is he supposedly after my job?”  
  
For the briefest of moments Famine frowned - that was quite a slip.  
  
“Are you playing me, Famine? Because if you’re trying that again…”  
“Death!” Famine feigned his most innocent voice. “Death, you wound me! I wouldn’t do that, you know me better…”  
“I know you all too well, Famine!” Death warned.  
  
Famine drew himself up, appearing indignant and hurt by the accusations.  
  
“You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you. Richard arrived at the scene of an accident. This kid wasn’t dead, but rose up anyway. He convinced Richard to leave the book with him so he could do your job. To be honest, Richard was only too happy to give it up. Let’s face it, he’s no good at it anyway. But the kid? He wanted it, you heard what he said, that he’s ‘ _doing it because the one who’s supposed to do it has got better things to do_ ’. You heard him say it yourself!”  
  
Death contemplated his words in silence, before asking a second question, his tone still hanging heavy with suspicion.  
“So why does he want to keep his body alive?”  
“Richard told him not to upset you. He’s a kid, but don't think that makes him stupid. It’s a back up. He thinks he can escape you by going back to his body if things get a little too hot.”  
“He can’t truly believe he’s safe from me alive?” Death jeered.  
“I said he’s not stupid, I didn’t say he knew anything useful!” Famine sneered.  
  
Death smiled to himself. Famine’s story sounded plausible and was apparently backed up by words he himself had heard. Famine smirked as he basked in Death’s trust once more. Of course he knew different. The story, whilst based on truth, had been twisted to his own ends and was wholly misrepresented.  
  
Pestilence cocked his head to one side as he considered Death’s words.

  
“If you’re thinking what I think you are, you’re even more evil than I thought,”  
“He thinks that if he crosses me he can escape back to his body. But to do that he’s going to need a body to go back to, isn’t he?” Death sneered, his face exuding arrogance and a smile that could only signify a twisted form of pleasure.  
“You’re gonna get Apathy onto it?” Pestilence smirked at the idea.  
"And War," Death mused. "I think he needs a change of doctor, don't you?"  
“Oh, Death, you’re a sly one! He’ll be begging us to let him live!”  
“He can beg all he likes,” Death’s face hardened into a deep angry frown. “No one crosses Death and survives!”  
  
  
*  
  
Frank looked up as Ray and Bob were shown into the small makeshift waiting room. He hadn’t purposely done it for sympathy, but his expression was pitiful. Pulling him into a hug, all three friends stood in silence offering mutual support.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
On hearing those three simple words, all of Frank’s pent up fear and guilt bubbled to the surface. Only now did he fully comprehend what he felt, which was the awful truth that he had escaped almost unscathed, while his two companions had suffered much more severe injuries. Tears welled in his eyes as he gazed up at Ray, who had asked the question.  
  
“Hey!” Ray began comfortingly. “This is not your fault! The doctor told us. A drunken driver turned too quickly and mounted the sidewalk. There was nothing you could have done.”  
“B…but, Gee, he’s…”  
  
There was nothing more to do than comfort the distraught young man. He was in shock and deeply traumatised. Ray tried not to dwell on the thought, but it was possible that Frank had potentially witnessed their friend being killed; knocked down in his prime by a drunk behind the wheel of a car. If Gerard didn’t survive, it seemed likely that Frank would struggle to get over the shock. The two men were at a loss to know what course of action was best. They had never seen Frank so emotional. But one thing they knew, he needed to rest. In addition, there was an unspoken suggestion, but both men knew what was also needed.  
  
“I’ll go, you stay with him.”  
  
Ray nodded as he watched Bob leave the room in search of Doctor Harman; Frank really needed something to calm him down.  
  
“Did the doc say when we could see them?” Ray asked trying to keep his voice low and soothing.  
  
Frank took one or two deep breaths as he tried to release his throat from the crushing and agonising hold of his tightening muscles. The pain he felt from trying to swallow the lump in his throat had long since weakened and exhausted him.  
  
“He… he must have,” Frank struggled to think. “Oh, God, Ray, this is important and I can’t remember. I can’t remember!”  
  
Lowering his head, Frank’s shoulders sagged and he wept, quietly at first, but as soon as Ray pulled him close and cradled him in a reassuring and comforting embrace, Frank crumbled. The shock of the accident and the sight of his two friends so badly hurt had taken its toll on him. Ray frowned with anger as he thought about how the doctor had allowed this without considering the very real shock and trauma that Frank had suffered. He fervently hoped that Bob would return soon so that Frank could receive the treatment he so desperately needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this in 2012 and had to leave it as it is - so, I know it seems that it's somewhat mirroring Frank's tour accident but it is a complete (and slightly freaky) coincidence.


	5. Frank is hurt more than he let on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank is hurt and Bob is furious, demanding a new doctor. But who is Doctor Waugh and will he be what they expect?

Ray could hear them a long way down the corridor and he couldn’t help but smile. Bob had this reputation for being tough, but in reality, most of the time, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Musicians had stereotypes; he knew that, hell, most musicians knew that. In their band, however, only two band members truly fitted their supposed types – Mikey and Bob. There were a lot of jokey ones and not so jokey ones; entire websites have been devoted to drummer jokes. Ray knew that poking fun at people who regularly carry sixteen inch pointy sticks around with them could only seriously be done if you know that, actually, they have a lot of good humour. The stereotypes that Ray was thinking about were the more down to earth realistic ones – but even those involved major ego issues for guitarists and singers. With an internal shrug, he was thankful that, while Gerard played the diva on stage, in their band, it was not the case. However, some were:

Stereotypical bassist – shy, hard-working, straight-edge, easy going but not a pushover, caring, dry humour – Mikey.  
Stereotypical drummer – serious yet fun, off-the-wall humour, hard-working, tough on themselves more than others and often the peacekeeper – Bob.

Bob was all of these things and more; a sweet, caring and a very funny guy. But add to that – don’t cross him and don’t mess with his friends. To their eyes, Doctor Harman had done just that. Leaving Frank alone in a makeshift waiting room without treatment for the trauma and shock he had suffered was inexcusable and right now, Bob was pointing that very thing out to him in no uncertain terms. It was unlikely that if Frank heard any of Bob’s words, he was in no condition to take any of it in. Ray could hear Harman’s objections to being manhandled by Bob back to the small waiting room, but on entry, his protests ceased. Even before Ray opened his mouth, Harman was apologising.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, surprised at the condition of the guitarist. “I had no idea. When we spoke he seemed fine.”  
“Fine?” Ray asked with doubt in his eyes and voice.  
“I… I did… I was,” Frank joined the conversation. “Gee was so badly hurt and Mikey in so much pain… how could I say I needed…?”  
“Frank, you’re in shock!” Ray replied in disbelief.  
“I… no… it’s… I’m pathetic.”

Bob took a deep breath as he looked down at Frank. Curled over on the chair, trying to shrink away to nothing, the diminutive guitarist seemed to grow even smaller; his big heart and courage fighting for room in his small frame.

“I’ll take this,” he nodded as he dropped down to one knee. “Frank?”

Frank glanced up, pale with reddened eyes, he looked expectantly at the drummer.

“Not all injuries are physical. What you’ve suffered, watching our friends be so badly hurt – why do you think that’s easy to deal with?”  
“Because I’m fine,” came the whispered reply.  
“Physically, yeah, you’re fine,” Bob placed a hand on Frank’s shoulder, pulling away as he winced. “Take your jacket off, Frank.”

Only now did Ray notice that Frank’s left arm hung limply at his side. His eyes met Bob’s with a look of concern.

“What have you missed?” Bob snapped angrily under his breath at Harman.

Helping Frank remove the jacket, all three men were shocked to see the obvious separation of his arm from his shoulder.

“How… he must be in excruciating pain,” Harman stammered.  
“You didn’t examine him?” Ray couldn’t believe he was even asking the question.  
“Well, no, he said…”  
“Enough excuses,” Bob interrupted, “we want him examined fully and treated.”  
“Yes… yes of course, I’ll…”  
“Not by you,” Bob added in a frosty tone. “And we want a different doctor for Gerard and Mikey too. The best, or we take this further.”  
“Yes… yes of course. I’m sorry. I’ll arrange for him to see Doctor…”

Harman’s voice drifted off as an icy chill ran through the otherwise stuffy room. All four men felt it. It was quite unusual for such an occurrence in a small, unventilated room, but nobody seemed to pay much attention.

“Sorry, yes…” Harman shook his head as if waking from a daze. “I’ll refer them to Doctor Waugh.”

*

“We need to get him back to his body,” Mari announced, with a harsh stare in Richard’s direction.

I have to be honest, I was a bit confused. If it were that simple, why couldn’t I have just lain back down at the scene of the accident?

“Because it’s not that simple,” Mari explained. Well, didn’t explain, as it turned out.  
“You… but I didn’t say anything,” I gasped.

This was really weird, I had only been thinking it, but Mari answered as if I’d spoken the words out loud. She looked at me, staring for a few brief seconds, before turning yet another glare towards Richard.

“You haven’t told him anything have you?” she snapped.  
“Well… I didn’t think… no, I haven’t,” he finally admitted with a sigh.  
“What?” I was really confused now. “What hasn’t he told me?”

Mari took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I need to start from the beginning. Sit down, Gerard, this might take some time.”  
“Do we have time?” I asked nervously.  
“If I don’t tell you at least some of this, it won’t matter, you’ll be dead anyway.”

I opened my mouth as if to speak, but even if I could have found the right words to say, no sound was forming. I was totally dumbstruck. The only thing I could do was to sit and listen. Taking my place in a comfortable chair, I waited. Part of me was relieved that finally someone was going to explain things to me, but I had a very strong feeling that I wouldn’t want to hear it.

“Gerard, you’re a premature death case. Idiot Boy here collected you too soon. Not only is your body not dead, but you’re not actually due to die until…”  
“Don’t tell me!” I blurted.

I’d always thought it would be kind of cool to know exactly when my number would be called. That way I could plan my life knowing how much time I had to enjoy everything and not sweat the small stuff. But when the option was finally presented to me, I didn’t want to know. It was a real shock to realise that I wanted life, should I ever get it again, to be a surprise for me. Weird, eh? The things you believe you want and then when you get them, you really don’t.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Mari smiled, “if you get back, you won’t remember any of this. No one ever does.”  
“Ever? This happens a lot?”

Mari pursed her lips as she gave the question serious thought.

“Not quite like this, no, but even so, not often. Well, not until Richard took over anyway.”

Richard scrunched up his nose in a frown of resentment. He couldn’t argue with the statement, but it didn’t mean he was happy to hear it.

“Okay, so what is it you need to tell me?” I asked, realising that the conversation risked derailment.  
“First of all, Death is very dangerous.”  
“I know; I met him!”  
Mari rolled her eyes. “No, you don’t know. How do I put this? Death isn’t exactly the brightest candle in the box. He’s very handsome.”

A fleeting smile crossed her lips at the words and briefly Mari slipped into a reverie that I really didn’t want to think about.

“Mari!” I prompted, hoping she would snap out of her daydream. Thankfully it worked.  
“Sorry! Yes, Death is very handsome and he is rather fond of the ladies and, to be fair, they all adore him. But, the only thing he has here,” she added pointing to her head, “is his hair.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her words, but I couldn’t see where this left me.

“That brings me to Famine. He’s a nasty piece of work, and he’s clever with it. He’s tricked Death into believing that you’ve muscled in on his job.”  
“But he didn’t mind Richard doing it,” I reasoned.  
“I wasn’t very good at it,” Richard admitted with a resigned shrug.  
“It’s not really the work he’s worried about,” Mari tried to explain. “It’s the ladies.”  
“What about them?” I asked. Sometimes I can really miss the point by a mile.  
“The word is out, Gerard. All the Underworld ladies are talking about you. You’re hot! And Death? Well, he doesn’t like it.”  
“I don’t want them! He’s welcome to them!” I insisted, leaping to my feet.   
“Famine has convinced him otherwise and by all accounts, it was something you said that finally convinced him.”

My mind was reeling. I had barely said anything. What could I have possibly said that… oh!

“I made a comment about the guy who’s supposed to be doing it couldn’t be bothered to do the job so I was. I meant Richard, but I didn’t mention him by name.”  
Mari nodded. “Yeah, that would do it.”  
“Can’t I just explain?” I asked, getting to my feet.  
“There’s more, Gerard, you’ll want to sit down again.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Things seemed bad enough already but I had to sit for the next part? Definitely not good!

“Death has sent Apathy and War to the hospital…”  
“Er… he’s… what?”  
“The Riders, Death, Famine, Pestilence, War and Apathy,” Mari explained.  
“Apathy?” I almost laughed. “Are you serious?”

The look on Mari’s face and especially Richard’s told me that they were. I really wasn’t expecting that.

“It’s okay, dear, no one ever knows about Apathy, he’s very good at his job.”  
“So,” I tried to recover from apparent ignorance. “What are they doing at the hospital? I should be worried, shouldn’t I?”  
“If I were you,” Richard chuckled unpleasantly, “I’d aim for terrified and you’d be much nearer the mark.”  
“Richard!” Mari scolded.  
“What? You want to over-protect the kid? Fine!”  
“At least I’m doing something to protect him, not just abandoning him to the Riders like you did.”  
“I didn’t know what to do and I…”  
“Wanted to save your own sorry hide,” I snapped, finally getting the measure of the man.

Mari smirked at Richard’s discomfort before continuing.

“Gerard, Apathy and War will try to get your friends to switch off your life support, or at the very least, not argue if someone else suggests it.”  
“The guys won’t do that, Mikey’s my brother, he won’t…”  
“War will have them fighting each other and Apathy will stop them caring what happens.”  
“No!” I shook my head in what I hoped was a confident way. “No, they won’t. They…”  
“The Riders are strong, they’ve been doing this for years. If your body dies, Gerard, you’ll be trapped between existences. Death will have you forever, to do whatever he wants with you and by then, we won’t be able to stop him.”

My mind reeled at the news. Death wanted to torture me for eternity. On his side, Famine, Pestilence, War and Apathy – four of The Horsemen of The Apocalypse with a millennia of experience. On my side, an elderly lady and the coward who did this to me in the first place. You can imagine how confident I was feeling.

“So,” I replied shakily. “The hospital?”


	6. Gerard looks for his own body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey suspects something is wrong, but what?

“Hi, I’m looking for Gerard Way.” 

It was undoubtedly the strangest thing I had ever said in my entire life. But it was made all the more awkward when I was utterly ignored.

“Excuse me?” I prompted, only to not even raise a glance. “Hey! Are you listening to me?”

I leaned over to grab her arm and my hand went straight through. That got a reaction all right… from both of us. She glanced up, looking in my direction but through me. Me? I was totally dumbstruck. A single gasp of shock had left my lips and with my mouth remaining open, I stared back, unmoving, virtually unseeing.

“I’m sorry, Gerard,” Mari pulled on my arm. “We should have told you.”  
“She can’t see me?”  
“No, I’m sorry, and you can’t touch anything either.”  
“But I… I sat down in your house.”  
"That was different, Gerard," Mari, once again, didn't really explain. "We're back in your world now."

My world? This was all still very confusing. I was so sure I had touched something, but the more I thought about it the more I realised that I actually hadn’t. Sure, I’d held the Book Of Death, but nothing from 'my own world' as Mari had put it. I felt sick, or at least I was sure I would have done if I could feel anything at all.

“This is going to make things a bit tricky, isn’t it?” I offered up the biggest understatement of my life.  
“Did you really think this was going to be easy?” Richard grumbled unkindly.  
“I may not be able to touch stuff in my world, Richard, but I’m pretty damn sure I could deck you!”  
“Well said, my dear. Richard, given that you are the cause of this mess, I suggest you restrict your comments to helpful ones.”  
“Look I’m no good at this and you don’t want me here. I’m probably just going to mess up again, why don’t you just let me go?”  
“Richard…” Mari began only to be interrupted by me grabbing the man by his jacket lapels.  
“Listen to me, you got me into this, you’ll get me out of it. Whether you like it or not! And trust me, not liking it suits me just fine!”

As I let go, I watched him with narrowed eyes as he huffed and spluttered and smoothed his lapels. He tried hard to give me a dirty look, but he couldn’t come close to matching the one I was aiming at him. Let’s face it, I’m a master of dirty looks when I need them and I needed one now.

“How are we going to find my friends and Mikey?” 

I turned to Mari; I had long since realised that she was much more than just a kind old lady. She knew so much more than anyone in a normal death situation would have and I knew that from personal experience!

“The hard way, my dear, we look for them.”

My heart sank; this was a big hospital.

“You can’t sort of just zone in in them, or something?” I asked hopefully.  
“You’d better hope not,” Richard scowled.

I frowned in reply, only to understand his comment when Mari added:

“If we could, dear, they’d be dead.”  
“Oh,” I sighed, nodding at the words. 

Indicating to a map of the hospital on the wall near the entrance, Mari walked purposefully towards it and began pointing to areas she believed were likely.

“Perhaps we should start with the ICU and possibly the head trauma unit?”  
“Mikey had a broken or dislocated leg, I think, and Frank seemed okay.”  
“Your body is most likely in ICU,” Mari stated with quiet sympathy. 

I could tell that she needed to make the point, but she was doing it kindly. While I was glad she did, I really didn’t like that she was referring to my body. It seemed… well, not just creepy, but… final.

“We’ll do everything we can, my dear. First, we need to find you and your friends. I think a regular ward would seem most likely for your friends,” she nodded, smiling kindly at me.  
“Shouldn’t I go to ICU?”  
“No,” she shook her head firmly.  
“But, I…”  
“Exactly,” Richard rolled his eyes. “You can’t just walk in there and see yourself dead.”  
“I’m not dead!”  
“Yet.”  
“That’s it!” I yelled. Rushing forward I slammed the source of all my problems back into the wall only to let go as I fell towards it as Richard passed straight through. I still hadn't got used to the idea that I wasn't just going to slam face first into it. 

“Richard!” Mari called irritably. Pausing a few seconds, she shouted again. “Richard, get back here now!”  
“Has he gone?” I asked wide-eyed. “I thought you said…”  
“Do you need summoning again?” she added with, what sounded like a cruel tinge to her tone that I’d never heard before.

Whatever the words meant, they did the trick and he reappeared, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Richard, whatever else happens, if you don’t help, Gerard will lodge a complaint. You’ll be back to working the graveyard shift again. Now I know you…”  
“All right! All right!” he snapped angrily. “I’ll help! Okay. Just don’t blame me if it doesn’t work.”  
“I do blame you!” I snapped. “This is all your fault!”  
“But!” Mari raised a hand in a calming gesture. “If we can fix this, no one needs to do anything.”  
“Wait…” I was angry and missing the point.  
“Gerard,” Mari slowed her speech, forcing me to listen. “Richard wants to help you, and in return you won’t make a complaint. Correct?”

It stopped me dead in my tracks – perhaps not the greatest choice of words – but it worked. The implication was that if I didn’t agree not to make a complaint, not only would Richard not help me, but there was a good chance he would actually actively make things worse. If the graveyard shift – whatever that was – was so bad, if it was going to happen anyway, he really had no incentive to do anything for me.

I found myself nodding, hoping I looked believable. 

“If he helps me, and it works, there’s no reason to complain.”  
“There! See, he’s doing it again!” Richard whined.  
“Gerard, you can’t add a proviso. Richard will give his word to do everything he possibly can in return for no complaint raised.”

I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea, but it didn’t look as though I had a choice. I nodded.

“Okay. No complaint.” Suddenly I felt intensely vulnerable.  
“So, you take those wards and we’ll take these and we’ll meet back here in…”

A chill breeze swept through the hospital lobby. We all felt it and I knew it was significant. Mari frowned and Richard’s eyes widened with abject terror as they exchanged glances.

“What?” I asked, nervously at first, then frantically. “What?”  
“It may be nothing, dear…”  
“That wasn’t nothing!”  
“You felt that?” Mari asked with a quizzical expression; her already wrinkled brow creasing all the more.  
“A chill,” I looked from Mari to Richard and back. “Sort of a breeze, but it didn’t move it was just… there.”

Again Mari said nothing and it was starting to scare me. They knew something and I knew it was bad.

“Tell me!” 

I was starting to panic. If I’d been truly alive, I know my mouth would have dried and I would probably have been sweating. I was staring now, willing them to answer me. My eyes pleaded with them to just answer my question. I felt dizzy and was struck with a nausea that I knew was only in my memory. 

“What was that?” I finally managed, somewhat weakly.  
“One of the Riders, Gerard,” Mari spoke quietly.  
“Here?” I asked with uncertainty. “Death?”  
“War,” she replied gravely. “But there’s more.”  
“There had to be,” I heaved a deep sigh.  
“Gerard… you shouldn’t be aware of the Riders.”  
“But… You know I’ve seen three of them,” I spluttered. I didn’t understand, what exactly was it that I wasn’t supposed to have been aware of?  
“When they appear to you, yes, but not when they’re travelling.”  
“Well… What does it mean?” It was all a little confusing and my head was spinning, but I tried hard to concentrate. I had a feeling this was significant.  
“It means that Death has found the man who actually died when you were collected by mistake.”

Now I was really confused. Mari had given me this news with such a grave expression on her face, but wasn’t it good news? Richard had told me that I had to find him, that his soul had to…

“No, Gerard,” Mari shook her head. This time I knew I hadn’t spoken - how was she doing that?  
“Why, no?” I asked nervously. “He told me, I…” I pointed at Richard only to find my voice tapering off as she shook her head slowly.  
“It wasn’t just that the man needed to be found and sent on. You needed to find him. You personally. You had to stop Death finding him first.”  
“Why?” I whispered, uncertain that I wanted the answer.  
“Before now, the Under and Over Worlds were in imbalance. One soul short. You see?”  
“Not really, no,” I shook my head.  
“Death has found the missing soul, the deficit is made up. As far as everyone is concerned all is well again.”  
“B…but… what about me?”  
“You’re not dead,” Richard snapped.  
“You keep saying that, but I’m not in my body and she can’t see me!” I yelled pointing to the receptionist. “Clearly, I’m not alive!”  
“No,” Mari frowned, “you’re not and that’s why you can sense the Riders when they’re in transition.”  
“Transition?” They were starting to lose me now.  
“War is here, arriving in almost spirit form. He can become anything he wants, make anyone believe anything he wants.”  
“What does he want?”  
“He’ll find a way to get your friends to switch off your life support,” Richard explained.  
“We have to find you and get you back into your body before they switch off the machine,” Mari spoke grimly but with sincere feeling. Not only did she think it was possible, she believed it was likely.  
“They won’t do it,” I shook my head in disbelief; some would say denial. “They’re my friends… my brother.”  
“Yes, Gerard, they will. Apathy will be with him.”  
“I haven’t sensed anything else,” I frowned.  
“Nobody knows when Apathy is around. He could be standing next to you and you wouldn’t know.”  
“Oh!” I laughed heavy with sarcasm. “My senses just won’t bother to pick him up. Just because he’s Apathy, I suppose?”  
“Brighter than he looks,” Richard said with what sounded a kind of grudging respect and I knew I’d hit the nail right on the head. 

I felt sick to my stomach. Not just at the idea that I had been right with the bizarre explanation, but that together, War and Apathy could possibly convince Mikey and my friends to let me die. I wasn’t due to die; it had been an accident. But now Death had found the other man; the numbers tallied in the Under and Over Worlds, as Mari had called them. And with no one expecting me in either world, I would be unable to escape Death’s wrath.

“We better get looking,” I mumbled, trying to pull myself together. 

Feeling a comforting arm on my shoulder, I looked up and was surprised to see Richard, for the first time, his expression genuinely contrite and concerned.

“I’m sorry I got you into this.”  
“Just get me out of it,” I pleaded, nodding, thankful for his words.  
“We’ll do our best, Gerard, we promise,” Mari replied steering me towards one of the corridors. “Find your friends and brother, but be careful! We'll look for you.”

*

“This is Doctor Waugh, Mikey.” Bob explained. “He’s looking after you and Frank.”

Mikey frowned, puzzled by the announcement. He couldn’t remember the name of the doctor who had previously attended him; he had been sedated and his memory had failed him, but he knew that they looked different. The previous doctor had left an impression on him – short and stocky with a permanently stressed look on his face. This man, however, was tall, and whilst broad looked gaunt and severe. Cropped wiry black hair cut in a short, almost spiky style and an impressive but neatly trimmed beard framed his long thin face. Chiselled cheekbones only served to highlight the sunken cheeks and thin but wide mouth. 

“Why the change?” Mikey finally asked.  
“Harman didn’t notice that Frank was hurt,” Bob explained moving to Mikey’s bedside.  
“Frank?” Mikey gasped. “But I thought you said…”  
“Don’t ask me why or even how, but he hid it. He hurt his shoulder. He’s being treated now though; Doctor Waugh’s looking after him.”

Mikey looked up at the doctor, his dark eyes staring straight through him.

“Er… Bob, I…” he began.  
“I’ll examine you now,” Waugh stepped forward, glancing down briefly at the chart. “Dislocated knee?”

Waugh pulled the covers back swiftly, revealing Mikey in his hospital gown, his left knee strapped up with bandages. Placing a hand over the damaged knee, Waugh ignored Mikey as he gasped with surprise. Pressing himself back against the pillows, he gripped the mattress with both hands.

“Does it hurt?” Bob asked, stepping forward.  
“It… It’s cold!” Mikey stammered.  
“Oh? Cold? Better than hurting though, probably,” Bob murmured, now staring out of the window.  
“Bob?” Mikey called, shocked by the response. The chill around his knee grew more intense. “Bob!” he snapped.  
“What?” Bob replied irritably as he looked over his shoulder at Mikey.

Removing his hand, Waugh allowed the corners of his mouth to curl up as he glanced at another man standing at the foot of the bed, unnoticed by either Bob or Mikey.

“I… I don’t know,” Mikey shook his head, his mind blanking as warmth slowly returned to his leg. “You didn’t say who was looking after Gerard.”

Bob looked thoughtful for a few moments, briefly his brow furrowed. Shivering slightly as the unseen man moved closer to him, he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Mikey frowned. Was that a glimpse of movement by Bob? There was definitely a shadow… but how? What was going on? Why did Bob seem so unconcerned about Gerard? Mikey frowned deeply. His brother had been the most severely injured of them all, but Bob seemed almost not to care. Something was definitely wrong.

Noticing the stern glare aimed at him by Waugh, Mikey realised that Bob’s reaction and the doctor’s curious behaviour had to be linked. Was he threatening Bob? Was Bob scared of him? Whatever the reason, he had to play along.

“I guess not,” he shrugged, to Waugh’s apparent satisfaction.  
“Well, I guess I’ll drop in on Frank,” Bob announced.  
“Bob? Where’s Ray?” Mikey asked, trying hard to conceal the shake in his voice.

The drummer gave the question a moment’s thought before shrugging.

“I don’t know. I’ll see you later, Mikes.”  
“Sure.” 

Mikey tried to sound normal yet indifferent. He had no clue what was going on, but he was determined to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the massive delay in updating this. I practically forgot about it then got a great review and thought - Carry On! Hope you like this next instalment :)  
> Sas xx


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